


as assumptions go

by gabriphales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Face-Fucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Threesome - M/M/M, Verbal Humiliation, this is my partners fault blame them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23394196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: pure pwp in the bentley, nothing more to it than that
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	as assumptions go

**Author's Note:**

> my s/o on discord and i got into discourse abt how shadwell probably thinks aziraphale is a whiny bottom bc that's his only impression of gay men and like,, thats where this spawned from. local heterosexual's assumptions inspire gay sex (that the aforementioned heterosexual is not involved in), what happens next will shock u

"it makes sense, y'know. why he'd think that." crowley mutters, tapping his nails along the edge of the table, hard enough to leave a distinctive pattering sound in the air. gabriel's wrist wobbles, the hand holding his fork wracked by the sort of shake that's unmistakably anxious. he shifts in his seat, clumsy as ever as his leg bashes knee-first into the table leg to his right. his eyes flit back and forth, caught between aziraphale and crowley. and he's about to open his mouth, say something idiotic enough to ease the mood--

"really? do elaborate, my dear."

his efforts fall short. aziraphale doesn't even bother looking up from his tea to continue conversation. sipping tensely, and quite nearly seeping out unbidden irritation, despite his very best attempts to hide it.

"he's not that far off from reality." crowley's tirade is unstoppable. he's seemingly more impish today than he is even on a regular basis, and gabriel doesn't know what to do. damage control has never been his strong suite, after all.

"i asked for an explanation, love. not an insult." aziraphale quips back. a retort seething with something unreadable, implacable. gabriel's foot starts jittering. it's bouncing out of sight--though not out of mind.

"you want me to explain, angel? really? is that what you _really_ want?" crowley doesn't step down from his teasing. if anything, he's only upping the ante. reaching new heights, delving into unexplored levels.

aziraphale, stoic as ever, stares back unblinkingly. "yes, as i've said numerous times now."

crowley leans in. gabriel takes note of the way his knees bump into aziraphale's. such a minute observation, still holding so much intensity. truth be told, gabriel's hard up to resist crowley's demeanor when he's stroking at the edge of temptation. playing into his more diabolic tendencies. delightfully wicked, _delightfully_ cruel.

his lips stand only inches away from aziraphale's ear as he whispers something inordinately filthy--if aziraphale's reaction is anything to by. his cheeks flush ruddy and warm, and he stammers out something prudish, chastising and chaste. but gabriel can see the way his legs have crossed now, and his thighs are squeezing together. he's aroused, he must be. he always gets like this when he's aroused.

is that what crowley's been playing at this whole night? not trying to rustle aziraphale's pride. but rather, chipping at some half-hearted embarrassment. perhaps, in hopes of reaching the needy bastard waiting underneath it all.

gabriel can't separate the length between his thoughts and his mouth. he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, painfully unthinking.

"you're both horny. in the middle of a _restaurant_." he gasps, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"and?" crowley says. "not like anyone's watching."

"yes, but--but what if they _notice?_ "

crowley grins. it's anything but repentant. "they'd get a lovely show, darling."

aziraphale rises to his feet then. finishing up his tea, and miracling a check already written--the absolute embodiment of frivolity.

"come along now, dear fellows." he says, smiling when crowley and gabriel follow without question.

"if you go about being so crude in public, we're liable to end up kicked out. besides--"

and he grips gabriel's shivering, dry palm in one hand, taking crowley's in his other.

"--you don't seem particularly interested in dinner."

the ride back home is utterly agonizing. aziraphale keeps gabriel's hand jammed between his thighs the whole while, rutting down against the crux of his palm. his whines are almost too much for gabriel to bear--only due to the fact he's got his head pressed up against his shoulder. hopelessly oblivious as he moans directly into his ear.

"please," he gasps, shuddering as gabriel's thumb drags hard over his clit. "it's so--it's so _wet,_ feels like 'm burning."

gabriel tugs him into his lap, letting him straddle the thick of his thigh. "c'mere, that's right, just get yourself off like this, sweetheart. so good for me. so good for _us._ crowley's probably cumming in his seat just listening to you."

" _rude,_ " crowley startles, though gabriel hadn't been too far off in his assumption.

"can you say it? please?" aziraphale mumbles, staving off a slur to his words with whatever little willpower he has left. being comprehensible, at the very least, will retain the remnants of his abandoned dignity.

gabriel doesn't even need to ask him what he means. he just knows, he _always_ knows. it's a little infuriating, honestly.

"such a good boy, our good boy. you're so pretty, aziraphale. can't take my eyes off you; so fucking gorgeous when you're desperate." he says, fingers deftly managing the front button on aziraphale's trousers. he slips his fingers in without trouble. reaching the soaked front of his panties, and struggling not to gloat when aziraphale's breathing quickens as he strokes over him gently.

" _please,_ " he gasps, doing his damndest not to openly sob. that would be letting gabriel in on the lengths of his arousal far too early. better to keep some things under wraps for now.

though, it appears gabriel's already caught on. "look at you, you've barely even been touched, and you're this riled up already?"

there's a certain glint of mischief in his tone that aziraphale simply can't allow. or, rather, he'd _prefer_ not to, but considering the way he's stuttering his hips in time with gabriel's faint rubbing, he doesn't think he's got much of a choice in the matter.

"i--i don't know--don't know why-- _gabriel_ , it hurts!" aziraphale keens, curling in on himself, and burying his face against the brunt of gabriel's chest. there's four fingers inside him now. and that's a lot to take, especially all at once. _especially_ when you're more prone to masochism than you'd ever like to admit, and both your lovers know that all too well.

gabriel grins, and it's anything but pleasant. "shush, that's what you need right now, lovely. we haven't fucked you for what, three days? and you're acting like a bitch in heat. if i keep you nice and stretched out, like _this_ \--"

he spreads his fingers, and aziraphale wails. his cunt spasming, eager for more, despite his earlier protests.

"--then maybe you'll stay satiated just a couple days longer."

aziraphale's shivering. he's shivering, and it's almost pitiful, really. pathetic, _adorable_ ; perhaps gabriel should rough him up a little more often.

he crooks his fingers just so, and aziraphale cries--honest to god, genuine tears.

"i'm not--don't call me that, that's _mean_." he grouses, all complaints falling short as he forces gabriel's fingers deeper inside him. his free hand twisting at his wrist, and the other coming up to press tight against his mouth, shelter the embarrassing noises.

"it's what you are, angel. nothing to be ashamed of. he's not wrong, you _are_ a needly little bitch in the bedroom." crowley laughs, giving up all hopes of properly driving, and instead miracling the bentley to carry itself the rest of the way home. he clambers into the backseat, managing to shuffle his way behind aziraphale, positioning him so he'd be completely trapped between the two of them. surrounded at both ends.

" _stop,_ " aziraphale says, high in his tight, wavering voice. "'m not, i'm not."

his insistence is an empty puddle with dreams of becoming ichor. it'll never be enough to slow crowley now that he's racing off his tracks. only their word--the one they'd agreed upon, all together--could do that.

not to mention, now that he thinks about it...

"doesn't seem like it, angel. 'specially when your cunt's this fucking _soaked_."

crowley's assumption turns out to be correct. with prodding, careless fingers, he plays at aziraphale's clit. pressing down with his thumb, and taking full advantage of how swollen it's gotten. easily reaching the sensitive tip, more often than not hidden under the brunt of his hood.

aziraphale thrashes, legs kicking with little regard for what, or who, they might end up hurling into. gabriel's quick to hold them down, pulling his fingers free, and using both hands to grip him by the ankles. like this, he realizes, he can tug his legs even wider. spreading them to the point his thighs ought to be burning from the strain. a thought that nags at gabriel a little more than it should.

"you're so--so _awful,_ so mean to me. i've been a good boy, haven't i? treat me like one!" aziraphale whines brutally, squirming the whole while. he really does sound like a tortured victim to two _terribly rude_ , big, mean boyfriends. it's hard for gabriel to stay in character when aziraphale plays his so well.

"oh, but this is exactly _why_ we're being mean to you, darling." crowley hisses, mock-pouting. "you need someone to keep you in line when you're getting out of hand. all good boys do, you know."

"someones, more like it." gabriel rambles, not really knowing what he means, but desperate to be kept in on the conversation. if one could even call it that.

"but i--i'm always so good. are you mad at me? are you going to hurt me?" aziraphale babbles, rather aimlessly at this point. he's saying whatever he'd like to hear, especially coming from his own mouth. it's a pointedly unsubtle way of dropping enough hints to clue in even the most clueless. i.e, gabriel.

"only a little." says gabriel, snapping into the role aziraphale so badly wants to bear witness to. "and it won't be _that_ bad. we'll take care of you, promise."

"don't you want that, angel? two cruel, careless brutes using your pretty little body, treating you like their own personal toy." crowley's only feeding more into the heart of aziraphale's fantasy. the want to be manhandled, needed for a single purpose. one incredibly difficult to fail, at that. he's always been a tad nervous since eden, the metaphorical tail between his legs shaking whenever he's faced with an opportunity he can lose.

this isn't something he has to try to be good at. getting fucked is a spectacularly painless hobby for him--if not always in the literal sense.

"p- _please_ ," aziraphale stammers, losing grip on whatever inkling of composure he'd had left to spare.

"please _what_ , aziraphale. you have to tell us, it's the only way we can help." crowley croons so sweetly, so imposingly in his ear, it's hard for aziraphale to resist a shiver.

"please, please fuck me." he gathers the will to beg instead, breathing out heavy through his nose. he sucks in a sharper inhale as gabriel miracles off his trousers, leaning down and just _looking_ , examining him.

"lovely." gabriel sighs, nosing over the mound of his cunt through his panties. he kisses him there, shockingly chaste for such pure debauchery. closed, pursed lips eventually parting to allow his tongue the pleasure of licking over aziraphale. one careful, lazy stroke, the resounding groan he lets out making aziraphale giggle--he _is_ ticklish, after all.

“feels funny,” he fails at stifling a laugh, thighs squeezing harder around gabriel’s temples.

“you know, that’s not exactly what you want to hear when you’ve got your head between your partner’s legs.” gabriel scoffs, tugging at aziraphale’s panties until they were properly wrapped around his ankles. any humor in the air dissipates like water to steam as he nuzzles against the warmth of aziraphale’s inner thigh. humming a pleased, off-key tune.

still, aziraphale manages to laugh again. “what are you doing?”

“just appreciating what i’ve got to work with. worshipping at the altar, so to speak.” gabriel says, aiming a delightfully cheeky wink straight at the core of aziraphale’s endearment. he lands his mark without flaw. aziraphale pulls him up for the sweet, soft press of their lips together. gasping openly into his mouth, practically panting with the strain of his arousal.

“i don’t suppose he can eat you out like that, angel.” crowley says, all too amused with the situation at hand.

“mmh, missed him.” aziraphale murmurs incoherently, pushing gabriel back down by his shoulders once more. “alright, you can get back to it now.”

and gabriel doesn’t even have the wits to tease him. he’s too far gone at this point, nestling between the smooth, chubby lips of aziraphale’s labia. they’re soft, so soft and slick. a splendid experience to drag his tongue upon. crowley eventually scoots his fingers out of the way. moving instead to grope at aziraphale’s chest, squeezing the ample flesh there with nothing less than total, utter rapture.

aziraphale goes pliant then, soft, and adorably limp in crowley’s arms. completely trusting, all the sass and bite he’d nursed earlier in hopes of cultivating _some_ sort of scene having melted away. gabriel's mouth is a glory beyond heaven. a spiking warmth that sends hot flushes all throughout his belly and cunt. he lets outs a wet, crackling sob, and gabriel grunts in approval. _encouragement,_ even, considering he's so eager to snap the fragile remnants of aziraphale’s protective shell. pull him out of that insecure, unsure state, one orgasm at a time.

it's a passion project, really. gabriel wants to see his darling as comfortable as he can get. and if, for now, he's most content with a mouth suckling against his clit, yet still being dressed from the waist up, that's more than good enough by gabriel’s standards.

"think he's ready now, don't you?" crowley asks, though it's more of a reminder than a question. they have more business to get up to than simply taking turns giving aziraphale head the entire evening. though that opportunity would be sorely missed by every participant--it's not exactly a chore, after all.

gabriel nods his head, shuffling onto his knees once more. he helps guide aziraphale out of his overcoat, mumbling something about overheating, and the dangers of hot cars (golden-hearted, if certainly not big-brained). aziraphale doesn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. letting his arms curl around gabriel’s neck, nibbling at the cleancut line of his jawbone. gabriel gasps, his own neglected cock harshly throbbing with his first glimmer of proper stimulation. he ruts his hips into the squish of aziraphale’s thigh, unashamed and unwavering.

"lay him down." crowley instructs. "you'll have his cunt, i'll fuck his mouth."

aziraphale makes a glorious noise at that. breaking open on a strangled moan at the very concept of being used so thoroughly, taken apart at both ends.

"eager," gabriel quips, hypocritical though he might be. his hands are gentle on aziraphale’s hips, shuffling him into place, and rolling him onto his side. he can feel the insides of his thighs shivering, shaking in gabriel’s grip. and that's too precious to ignore, he decides. tilting aziraphale’s leg up just a notch, and miracling his fly undone, trousers open. his cock feels blisteringly heated, even to his hand. palm coated in precum from the moment he lines himself up with aziraphale, slick and heavy.

"sh-- _fuck._ gabriel, oh-- _ohpleasepleaseplease_ gabriel, i need it!" aziraphale’s back arches as gabriel sinks inside him. a hand on his tummy, correctly identified as crowley's, pushes him back down with ease. clutching at his jaw, and pulling his mouth open with two hooked fingers. crowley fuddles with the buttons on his own jeans. eventually managing to tug his cock free with an appropriately appreciative sigh. his head tosses back, and with one brutal, uncoordinated thrust, he fills aziraphale to an absolute mouthful.

"good angel, that's my good angel, _yes,_ sweetheart. keep it up, just like that." crowley slurs out a flurry of nonsensical praises. mostly directed entirely at the hope of getting aziraphale even more worked up than he already is, considering, by all accounts, the angel isn't really doing anything whatsoever. he's patient, receptive and grateful for the two cocks stuffing him to the very brim at the moment. clenching around gabriel, contracting with specific intent, aiming to lead him to his orgasm sooner rather than later.

and crowley? well, crowley's easy. all he has to do is lay there and take it. sit still, like a good boy. he is a good boy, he _knows_ he's a good boy. and he's determined to prove it.

 _ _"__ such a sweet little mouth. i should fuck you here more often, just keep you on your knees, at my throne all day. you'd like that, wouldn't you?" crowley continues rambling, spewing out more and more of his endless teasing. a hot, patronizing shame, dipped in the coolant of his undisguisable affections. even now, the sickly sweet gush in his tone is only readable as pure, fully sincere. and aziraphale loves it. he loves knowing he's being loved, cradled and cared for with every buck of crowley's wiry thin hips.

and gabriel’s just as fervent in that department, if not more. always showing his love as some perverse worship, kissing down the nape of aziraphale’s neck even as he's snapping ruthlessly into him. every thrust sends aziraphale jolting, further choking him on the thick of crowley's cock. and he whines with it, whines because he likes the burn in his throat, and the burn in his cunt. the scourge between his legs, tearing into him, and building him anew as nothing more than a hole to fill. a warm, soft place to fuck.

there's spittle dribbling down his lips, spreading across his cheeks and chin. and he's desperate, he's desperate now. even moreso than before. crowley's fingers are petting at his hair, stroking the span of his scalp. and gabriel’s nails are digging into the pudge of his lovehandles. not unloving, not unkind, but certainly not cautious. he has to cum, simply _has_ to at this point. his clit throbbing, sorely untouched, and pulsing itself to the thrum of his own heart as he gets closer and closer. spiraling to the edge, and feeling rather like when he reaches his high, it'll be more like crashing down.

finally, shaking, unsteady fingers prod at his clit. grinding it in little circles against the pubic bone. the pulsing there quickens, going at a rapid fire pace, and aziraphale’s close, he's so close, he can't stand it--

he cums with the head of crowley's cock slamming against the back of his throat, fully triggering the extent of his gag reflex. he squeals--an embarrassing descriptor for an even more embarrassing sound. gabriel's soon to follow after that. finding his release in shallow, lukewarm thrusts. doing his best to avoid pushing aziraphale’s oversensitivity too far.

he claws through aziraphale’s curls, pulls his head up from crowley's cock. his other hand springs forward, gripping crowley, and jerking him all the way to the edge of his finish. he lets aziraphale do the last bit. a shy, overexploitedly innocent lap of his tongue through crowley's slit is enough to have him cumming. his climax a violent, shaky process. leaving aziraphale dripping with the aftermath, eyes squeezed shut to avoid any unnecessary sting.

crowley coos, rubbing a thumb through the slick of his cum, and pinching at aziraphale’s cheek for good measure. he hoists aziraphale into his lap, letting his tongue do the rest of the cleaning left unhandled. licking him spotless, and struggling not to laugh in turn at the angel's tired giggles. his darling's been properly tickled pink, in every sense of the word.

the bentley steers to a sudden halt. they're home. with great pleasure, and a charm dripping with sardonic disposition, crowley opens the door for them.

"after you, my loves." he says, his voice jammed somewhere between curt and courteous. there's even a slight bow to his posture, the clearest indication he's playing this up for show.

"why, thank you, my _ravishingly_ handsome, dear gentleman." aziraphale drags himself to match crowley in tone and flavor. it's not difficult, they're all worn out beyond belief. in an exhausted, afterglow stupor.

aziraphale takes crowley's hand as he leads them both back to the bookshop. a more hospitable environment for, hopefully, a further dose of the night's shenanigans.

**Author's Note:**

> god i hate that i wrote this from a single discord convo. ovulation is wild yall


End file.
